


Panic

by RealLifeOrFantasy_97



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Gen, One Shot, Panic Attacks, descriptions of panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 23:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18486373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealLifeOrFantasy_97/pseuds/RealLifeOrFantasy_97
Summary: "A panic attack goes from 0 to 100 in an instant. It's halfway between feeling like you'll faint and feeling like you'll die." -Unknown





	Panic

**Author's Note:**

> I do not pretend to have any expert knowledge or first-hand experience with panic attacks. I apologise for any mistakes.

I saw the look in Leo’s eyes; the fear and overwhelming stress that lingered, threatening to consume him. It was stronger now, breaking through the normally impenetrable wall of complete calm and control he always had up.

Leo moved into the kitchen, steps rigid as if he was forcing himself to move normally. After a few seconds, I followed. He was leaning over the kitchen sink, arms braced against the counter, head bowed. His shoulders heaved slightly with quick, hard breaths and his muscles were tensed, trying to stop the trembling I could see despite his efforts. He mumbled something to himself which seemed to help resolve the issue. He inhaled a slightly deeper breath, standing straight and flinging his head back to look at the ceiling for a long minute.

When he dropped his head he reached for a glass on the sink, fumbling with it for a few seconds before he managed to clasp his shaking fingers around it. Once in his hand he paused, as if preparing himself to perform an incredibly hard task. The concern I’d felt earlier grew as the trembling failed to stop even as he filled the glass.

“You ok, bro?” I asked softly.

Leo replied several long seconds after I’d spoken, his voice quiet in an attempt to mask the shakiness. “Y-yeah. I’m fine…”

He reacted slowly, head turning and eyes meeting mine for a brief second before they rolled down, giving my injuries a once-over. He stared, almost through me and nodded, raising the glass from the bench towards his lips. I watched in quiet concern as his hand shook, water sloshing over the rim from the tremors.

And suddenly the glass slipped through his fingers, crashing to the ground and sending splintering shards flooding over the kitchen floor. Leo’s right hand slapped the bench as his knees buckled, while his other went for his chest, clutching at his heart beneath his plastron.

Panic spiked in my mind and I all but sprinted the distance to him. I gripped his upper arms, halting his slow descent and gently called his name, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. Leo’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated, breathing coming in short, rapid bursts.

“M-M-ik-key…”

My name trembled off his lips and his arm latched onto mine, squeezing painfully as his eyes swam wildly. Before I could say anything, he dropped, elbow collapsing. Prepared, I caught him but as our feet shifted to regain balance, glass tinkered around our toes. Glancing down I could already see some fragments resting across Leo’s feet and knew that if I let him fall we’d add a sea of red to the sparkling mess.

“Leo, sit down, alright? You’re ok.”

I gently pulled him to the side and he took a stumbling step, almost tripping over his own feet. I kept a firm grip on his arms, taking all the weight he couldn’t handle and pulled him away from the shattered glass, before lowering him to the floor.

Once he was sitting, shell leaning against the kitchen cupboards and legs roughly crossed before him, I took note of his symptoms, checking him over for any kind of injury that could have caused them.

He bore the injuries he’d received during the fight earlier in the night, but aside from his slightly bleeding feet from the movement through glass, there were no visual injuries which warranted huge concern.

Looking up, I startled to find his eyes unfocused and glazed, staring into thin air like there was a phantom in the room. Despite myself, I glanced over my shoulder to ease my doubt before placing my hands on his shoulders, squeezing firmly.

“Come on bro. Look at me. You know how to get through this. You can do it. Come on, Leo.”

I knew exactly what this was, but that knowledge brought me little to no comfort. Seeing it happening was dredging up haunting memories from over a decade ago.

A panic attack.

Leo used to get them when he was younger, back when he’d been terrified of heights. But thanks to Splinter and Donatello, he’d grown out of them. Now it seemed he was having a relapse and I was scared to think how bad it could get. The worst I could remember was Leo struggling for breath for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only 20 minutes. We were only 8 and it had been his first one.

It had terrified us.

Don had been seriously lacking in medical knowledge at that age and Master Splinter had no experience with panic attacks, aside from the few he’d seen in some of his soaps. I couldn’t remember how father stopped the attack, but remembered Don telling us to either help Leo regain control of his breathing, or get him to hold his breath.

It was quickly learnt that holding Leo’s mouth and nostrils closed only worsened the attacks; he had to hold his breath voluntarily. And that was almost impossible to achieve.

“Come on dude. Focus on your breathing. Like Master Splinter taught us, right? In through the nose, out through the mouth.” I said, demonstrating the deep breathing with exaggerated effort.

Leo failed to hear me. He didn’t react at all. His breathing actually quickened and the sound was making _my_ lungs clutch painfully, as if I was the one fighting for air.

I thought about calling Donny, but knew he was still in the infirmary and would be unable to help me.

I had to do this myself.

“Easy bro, easy. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

It unnerved me how calm I sounded. Holding my fearless big brother, panic stricken and gasping for breath, without freaking out. Without backup I found myself mimicking what Leonardo would do in a similar situation.

I continued talking to him; words of comfort and encouragement that fell on deaf ears. I tried to break through the fog in his mind, but his fear had manifested into something malevolent. Still, I kept my hands on his shoulders, massaging them at irregular intervals to draw his attention and persisted with talking him through the breathing exercises.

Nothing was working. He wasn’t reacting. With every creeping moment, dread wormed its way deeper into my stomach. I didn’t know what I’d do if Leo couldn’t regain control. Don had told us that some panic attacks end in unconsciousness. Some people stop breathing completely.

I swallowed my panic, refusing to think of the worst-case scenario and focused back on my brother. “Leo, bro, it’s me. It’s Mikey. Can you hear me?”

He turned, apparently hearing, but then looked straight through me, eyes wide with panic. My dread surged and then his hands latched onto my arms, squeezing painfully as his eyes swam back into focus, finally seeing me. His breaths were fast and shallow, shoulders shaking as he weakly gasped for breath.

I felt something spark; relief that Leo was fighting back. I returned his firm squeeze, smiling encouragingly. “That’s it, Leo.” His breathing hitched as he attempted to speak. I shook my head firmly. “Don’t talk. Just focus on breathing.”

The hitching surged and with it, the panic clouded Leo’s azure eyes again. My heart spiked in alarm as his breathing raced, fingers tightening around my biceps with hand shaking force.

He was losing it again.

Instinctually reaching forward, I clasped a hand on the back of his head and pulled his forehead against mine. It was an action we’d all used when we were younger to comfort each other; Leo and Raph using it on Donny and I far more often than each other. As we got older it was used less and less; becoming reserved for the most necessary of moments. When that level of reassurance and brotherly intimacy were needed, it was often one of the worst-case scenarios.

Of course, even in his distressed state Leo knew he was more used to giving it not receiving it, and for a moment I thought he’d pull away. But he surprised me when he relaxed and just allowed himself to be held. He closed his eyes, simultaneously releasing a breath I hadn’t known he’d been holding, which caused his shoulders and back to slouch forward as he focused on matching my breathing.

“That’s it bro. Just breathe.” I murmured softly, barely above a whisper.

His eyes fluttered open, the glassy, lost look slowly fading as he found mine.

“M-Mik-key…” He breathed unsteadily, but he wasn’t hyperventilating or trembling and I knew it was finally over.

“Yeah Leo. I’m here. You’re alright bro.”

He closed his eyes again and it wasn’t until his breathing finally evened out that he shifted backwards and I released him, immediately glancing at the clock above the doorway.

I didn’t remember looking at it when this started, but I must have, because I knew the length of time that had passed. Don’s research had told him to monitor the duration of the panic attacks, so we always checked the time when we noticed the signs.

40 minutes.

That’s how long I had knelt before Leo, holding his shoulders to anchor him to me in this reality, while he trembled beneath my hands so badly I thought he might have been convulsing.

40 minutes whispering words of encouragement, trying to give as much comfort as possible when I needed it too.

“You scared me bro.” I said shakily.

Leonardo didn’t get his nickname ‘Fearless’ for nothing and although he hated it, he had earned it more than once. Seeing him panicked had rattled me and I was sure would continue to haunt me forever. It wasn’t every day you were reminded your indestructible big brother is actually mortal.

He didn’t reply to my statement, still gathering himself back up, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“Leo? Mikey?”

Donatello’s voice broke the silence, echoing gently across the lair, followed by the soft padding of footsteps.

Leo jerked, looking at the chaos around us, then up at me, breathing erratic again as panic returned.

I offered a broad reassuring smile, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s ok. He’s fine. You’re fine. This is fine. Just breathe.”

And I knew it was true. Don hadn’t sounded panicked or distressed, so I knew everything was fine.

Leo nodded jerkily, accepting the comfort I presented him. He took two more heaving breaths, then sucked in a much deeper one, closing his eyes and stilling his panting as he held the air in his lungs for a few seconds. Slowly he exhaled and as the last bit of oxygen ghosted over his lips, he opened his eyes.

They were calm and collected. The steady blue eyes of my fearless older brother and leader.

It frightened me how easily he’d slipped the mask back in place. How quickly the true panic and terror he’d felt was buried beneath a façade of control and confidence. It was something I was going to be more aware and cautious of in the future, but for now I let him go.

He stood, shifting carefully through the glass as he headed towards the doorway. Donny met him just before he reached the threshold, splattered with blood and looking weary, but giving a relieved smile.

“He’ll make a full recovery in a few weeks. He’s awake now if you want to see him.”

Leo nodded, placing a hand on Don’s shoulder as he stepped past and quickly glided over to the infirmary. Once our blue banded brother departed, Don turned to the chaos of glass and blood as I stood, mahogany eyes widening in shock.

“What the shell happened?”

His eyes followed the soft smudges of blood trailing behind our older brother, before he turned to me, expression worried.

“It’s alright bro. I’ve got it all under control.” I said, smiling reassuringly. I moved to the back of the kitchen, reaching for the cleaning supplies to start cleaning the mess. I held the broom out to Don, giving a cheeky grin. “Two choices; help clean this, or clean yourself up.”

He held my gaze for several seconds, scrutinising me with high quality scientific observation, then slumped forward with a sigh. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

My grin dropped as I took in his defeated stance. He was exhausted and this was just piling extra stress onto him.

“I can’t tell you anything I’m not sure about either.” I answered honestly. He raised his head, giving me a hopeful, pleading look and I sighed. “If you promise to have a shower and get some rest, I’ll tell you what I find out.”

Don considered the offer, then sighed, knowing he didn’t really have a choice. “Alright.” He said. “I’m going.”

“Good. You smell.” I jested lightly.

He shot me an amused, but withering glance as he left.

Donnie and Raph both deserved to know about the panic attack, but it was something I had to talk to Leo about beforehand.

Starting to hum a happy tune, I bent down to clean up the mess.


End file.
